A Tale of Wet Elves & Disgruntled Wizards
by Alida-Fruit
Summary: A Hobbit based vignette. Gandalf stated that two Rivendell elves warned him of the presence of the three trolls in The Hobbit. This is the tale of that meeting. An Elrohir and Elladan Fic. Complete.


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"I went on to spy out our road. It will soon become dangerous and difficult. Also I was anxious about replenishing our small stock of provisions. I had not gone very far, however, when I met a couple of friends of mine from Rivendell."

"Where's that?" asked Bilbo.

"Don't interrupt!" said Gandalf. "You will get there in a few days now, if we're lucky, and find out all about it. As I was saying I met two of Elrond's people. They were hurrying along for fear of the trolls. It was they who told me that three of them had come down from the mountains and settled in the woods not far from the road: they had frightened everyone away from the district, and they waylaid strangers. I immediately had a feeling that I was wanted back. Looking behind I saw a fire in the distance and made for it. So now you know. Please be more careful, next time, or we shall never get anywhere!"

"Thank-you!" said Thorin.

_The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien_

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Summary: A Hobbit based vignette. Gandalf stated that two Rivendell elves warned him of the presence of the three trolls in The Hobbit, which allowed him to return in time to save the dwarves. This is the tale of that meeting.

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Notes: 

Supadrenched is a completely fictional word. It is pronounced sue-pa-drenched.

ada is elvish for father or daddy

Mithrandir was the elven name for Gandalf

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Credits: I would like to thank my beta-reader, eLLe. I would also like to say that I was inspired to write this piece by Artemisa. She has some great Elladan and Elrohir stories and has been asking me to write one. Here is the product.

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A Tale of Wet **Elves & Disgruntled Wizards**

Elladan was wet.

No, wet did not encompass how completely saturated by the rain he was. Something more dramatic was needed to describe the son of Elrond's present state, but his own vocabulary failed to provide him with what that word might be. He had already discarded several possibilities, including damp, moist, soaked and drenched. Drenched almost worked, but then another raindrop would hit him, followed by another, making it too inadequate. No, something much grander was needed then simply drenched.

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Supadrenched. 

Yes, that was it. A new word was on the verge of being born. A word that would become the motto for all those luckless people who, like himself, had to be born with the unfortunate disposition to want to travel. Especially in these early months of spring, in the rain, being supadrenched under the oppressive darkness of a starless night when one should be by a fire enjoying warm wine and singing songs. Yes, this word would be shouted throughout the land, like the curse it was.

Elladan was so busy planning how to market and introduce this word to the rest of the world that he lost his footing in the slick mud he and his brother were now traversing and went down in a tangle of limbs and hair... into the for mentioned mud.

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Squalsh.

The unnatural sound of an elf colliding with the dirt echoed into the following silence before Elladan had even fully realized what had happened. He was now no longer just wet, as no respectable elf aught to be, but wet *and* dirty.

"SUPADRENCHED!" he shrieked in outrage.

Elrohir, who was watching the entire scene in front of him, doing his best to stifle his laughter, did not doubt for a moment that this unintelligible word was meant to be a curse of some sort, however garbled it came out sounding.

"Brother, I do believe that the weather is affecting you," he said teasingly as he watched Elladan de-tangle himself and stand, smirking at the suction noise that was produced as the procedure reached its completion. The glare that he received for commenting proved the point and ended any debate the matter might have sparked had they been drier, and in Elladan's case, cleaner.

"This is all your fault!" Elladan accused as he attempted to fling mud from his clothes, hair and face.

"Hah! Believe that if it makes you feel better but I think we both know which of us decided on this little expedition."

"Yes! You did not talk me out of it! So that makes... *THIS*... your fault!" Elladan found himself stumbling and stuttering over his words as he spoke. He could not remember ever feeling this uncomfortable, and it was affecting his mood considerably.

To his further annoyance Elrohir merely laughed.

"None have been able to talk sense into your head since birth, Elladan, and this we both know. You have even managed to overcome the endurance of some of this ages greatest and most dedicated scholars and leaders, ada included. It is quite the accomplishment on your part! I knew I never stood a chance at making you see reason, and I am only glad that mud has managed to succeed where all else has failed." Elrohir smiled happily as his brother continued to glare. Realizing that he might not be aiding in their situation, Elrohir finally sighed after a few moments of angry silence, and held up his hands in mock defeat. "Come, 'tis not so bad and Rivendell is not that far off."

"Easy for you to say who is clean!"

"Mayhaps," Elrohir said finding himself laughing once again at the indignant expression upon Elladan's face, "but I also managed to keep my feet underneath me so deserve, therefore, to be clean. Do not resent me for my balance and concentration."

Elladan watched his brother's smugly unblemished face momentarily, wishing to hurl a handful of mud into it, despite the childishness of the inclination. Slowly pulling togther his tattered cloak of pride however, he resisted the initial urge. He was after all a dignified elf lord, well past his youthful years, and a revered warrior in his own right. He did not throw mud at his brother simply because he was clean while Elladan himself was dirty. It would be an incredibly small thing to do.

"Well, at least this trip as not been a complete waste," he stated as regally as he could, attempting to justify his choices to both of them.

Elrohir smirked once again, folding his arms across his chest as he did so. "If you say so. I think we can both agree that it has been... amusing, if nothing else."

Elladan glared at his brother once again, whose eyes were dancing with glee. He was receiving far to much pleasure over the situation and his snippet comments were starting to beg for retaliation. Yet again Elladan stayed his hand. It would not help the situation and they could not afford to drop their guard completely, after all, there were trolls about.

"We now know the rumours are true. Three trolls. We can go back now and rally our people. In a week from now the problem will have been dealt with. It could have been finished with this eve had you not refused to fight."

"Oh, brother, really! The two of us were not about to take on three fully grown trolls. It would have been far too dangerous. We needed more help and this I think you know."

"We could have managed," Elladan said somewhat sulkily.

"Yes and we could have easily become a troll meal as well, such is life."

"Sarcasm does not become you," Elladan stated icily, grinding his teeth together at the added mirth the comment seemed to have upon his companion.

"Nor does pouting become you," Elrohir countered jovially.

It was this third urge that Elladan found himself powerless against. Almost without willing to do so his hand scrapped up a fistful of mud from his previously immaculate shirt and hurled it at the grinning face of his brother. 

Much to his annoyance Elrohir seemed ready for such an attack, and slipped gracefully from the path of the projectile.

Much to his horror he did not miss a target altogether. Granted he did hit something but, still, it was not what he had intended to hit.

The wizard did not seem to find being covered in mud amusing.

Elladan gulped. "Gandalf!" he said, trying to sound pleasantly surprised, and ignoring the fact that he had just thrown mud at the dignified Istari, hoping that if it was not mentioned on his part it would not be mentioned at all. Such a farfetched wish was not to be.

Elrohir, eyes still alight with delight, immediately acted upon this newest turn of events. "Ah, Mithrandir, your presence and company is always welcomed among the elves. You must forgive my brother for he was just in the throws of a tantrum and his actions, usually erratic, tend to become a tad more unpredictable when he is in such a state. I am sure when next you are in Rivendell he would be glad to wash any and all garments you brought with you to make amends," he offered helpfully.

Elladan stifled the wish to do his brother physical harm in the next few seconds.

"My apologies, Mithrandir. I did not see you approach," he offered stiffly, trying to ignore his brother's mirth.

The wizard looked from one twin to the next, his face unreadable under his bushy eyebrows. He then slowly looked down so that he could see the new patch of mud that decorated his chest. All three companions stared at the mud patch for a long, uncomfortable minute. 

Although Elladan wished it to do so, the offending dirt did not disappear from the clothing article. It stayed there in all its staining glory, mocking Elladan and finally bringing colors of shame to brighten his cheeks. This was most definitely not his day.

"So, what news?" Elrohir finally inquired.

"I have been scouting out this path for some travelling companions of mine," came the response. Its tone made Elladan wince slightly. There were few people who could manage to make the elf lord feel chastised in his adulthood. Among the few ranked his father, whose gentle disposition could become wrathful on occasion; his mentor, Glorifindel was another, and finally came his grandmother, whose words more than tone could keep her grandson in line, but that, he had thought, was all.

He was wrong.

Mithrandir proved that he too possessed the power make Elladan feel one hundred again. Elladan really wished at that moment that he would fall back into the mud and die, escape into some blissful state of ignorance. An ignorance that encompassed him forgetting the look Gandalf now pinned him with.

"Ah, Mithrandir, I hope your travelling companions are armed and on guard. This area is not as safe as it once was. Trolls have come from the mountains and now grip these lands in terror. Elladan and I were just trying to locate them and justify the rumors. We are now, with all speed possible, returning home so that we might gather fighters to see to this problem."

Gandalf's head shot up upon hearing this. He looked at the two elves, sighing as he did so unhappily. "I had hoped to procure provisions, as a small accident has robbed us of ours, but I now dislike leaving my friends to their own devices. I have an ill feeling at hearing this that things might already be turning for the worst."

"Do you require our aid, for we stand ready to assist?" Elladan found himself saying, sobering at the thought that friends of Gandalf might be in danger.

"Nay, young ones. Go and clean yourselves. I can handle this, and worry not about the trolls any more, for this too I shall deal with. Instead you can run ahead and tell your father that I approach with a party of fourteen others, and will be infringing upon his hospitality for a short while. We should be there within two or three days, I would imagine."

"We shall do as you request, Mithrandir," Elrohir said with a small bow.

In the blink of an eye the wizard had vanished leaving two wet elves alone.

"Well, he seemed to take that reasonably well," Elladan stated, feeling as though he had been forgiven quickly and with little effort. The rain too seemed to be dying down making him think that perhaps things were finally improving.

Sighing he looked at Elrohir.

"Come brother, let us return home," he stated. Smiling suddenly, feeling his previous darker mood vanish, he threw his arm across his brothers shoulder, ignoring the disgusted snort Elrohir made as the mud covered arm came in contact with himself. "I have a feeling that things are improving!"

It was exactly three days later that Elladan decided Mithrandir was a disgruntled old goat of a wizard, to put it kindly. He vowed to never again assume a wizard would simply forgive an accident, for they were much too vengeful, for such consideration. So it was that Elladan, son of the notable lord Elrond, spent an entire morning stooped beside a river washing the garments of thirteen dwarves, one hobbit and of course the ledgendary Istari himself, to the sounds of his brother's laughter.

THE END 


End file.
